


Circles

by areyoutherelarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Beaches, First Time, Lighthouses, M/M, Panic Attacks, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:12:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6937291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoutherelarry/pseuds/areyoutherelarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis and Harry meet on the beach as young kids. Their years are spent waiting for that month together under their lighthouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Circles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [indierection (amandamoraisa)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandamoraisa/gifts).



> This work was inspired by Passenger's Circles, hence the title and lyrics peppered throughout. 
> 
> A few warnings: Harry is under 18 when they have sexual relations. He is of consenting age in the UK, but I still want to put that out there. At the end, there is death but it's of old age and not graphically described. If you know the song, you'll understand why it ends the way it does.

_It’s been years_

_Since we carved our names_

_On a clock tower door_

_Before everything changed_

_We were big-eyed boys_

_With the salt on our skin_

_And we’d throw our kites to the wind_

_And they’d fly on and on and on and on_

_On and on and on and on_

_On and on and on and on_

 

**2003 9 and 11**

            Their mum had told them to get some fresh air. Gemma had sighed heavily, grabbed her Walkman, and traipsed down the beach to find a shady spot to sit. Harry’s pretty sure their mum meant together, but he doesn’t follow her. Harry would usually follow her, but she’s been moody the last few days. She was not excited about staying at the beach; she didn’t want to miss out on spending the summer with her friends. She’s also still not the biggest fan of their mum’s new boyfriend. Harry thinks that she misses their dad more than he does, sometimes he feels bad about it, but he likes Robin and he likes the beach.

            There’s a lighthouse down the beach a little bit away from the general flow of people. Harry loves lighthouses. His favorite book series is about a lighthouse keeper; he’s a little bit too old for them now, but sometimes when he’s sad, he reads them alone in his bed. So Harry loves lighthouses.

            The lighthouse is much more daunting up close, so Harry skirts around it in amazement. He plays in the sand at the base of it and looks for shells in the sand.

            “Those aren’t the good ones,” Someone shouts at him, and Harry jumps a little and his heart races. It’s a boy maybe a little bit older than him with lighter hair and a football kit on. He’s standing on the rocks near the base of the lighthouse with his hands on his hips.

            Harry shrugs his shoulders because they’re for his mum and she won’t care. He doesn’t know what to do, so he tries to make himself look a little bit smaller because he knows footie boys don’t always like him. He’d rather be by himself than be teased by this other boy.

            “I’ll show you where the good ones are,” the boy shouts again. He smiles brightly at Harry, so Harry follows him to the other side of the lighthouse.

            “I’m Louis Tomlinson, by the way,” the other boy introduces.

            “Harry, Harry Styles,” Harry responds softly, looking down at the seashells the other boy is pointing at. They don’t look any different to him, but that’s not important.

            “How old are you, Harold?”

            “Nine, and my name’s not Harold,” he mumbles.

            “But I like calling you Harold. I’m eleven. I’m going to be in secondary school next year.”

            “My sister was in secondary school last year.”

            Louis ignores Harry’s information about Gemma to explain why these are the best shells. It seems that his mother went crazy for them when he brought them home yesterday and if his mum loves them they must be the best.

            “Do you like lighthouses?” Louis asks suddenly.

            “Yes,” Harry replies sincerely. Finally, looking up at the boy who is only a few feet away; his eyes are burning a bright blue, it’s like he contains the sea within his gaze.

            “Come on then,” Louis beckons as he climbs the rocks to get closer to the lighthouse.

            “I don’t know. Won’t the lighthouse keeper be mad?” Harry asks as he brushes the sand off of his jeans.

            “I don’t think there is one. I’ve been watching it for days now. I haven’t seen one person,” Louis declares. Harry doesn’t believe him, but, for some reason, he’s still willing to explore with this boy.

            “Okay, let’s go,” Harry accepts. Louis cheers as Harry pulls himself up the rocks. He has to be careful because he gets hurt easily and he doesn’t want to worry his mum.

            Louis slides the latch on the door when Harry gets to the top. There’s a note about not trespassing that makes Harry’s stomach twist with fear. Louis soldiers on though, so Harry follows reluctantly. The Lighthouse Keeper stories did not prepare Harry for how creepy it is on the inside. It’s scary and like those horror films that Gemma likes so much. He follows closely behind Louis, who eventually reaches out a hand for Harry to hold. Louis’s hand is about the same size as Harry’s even though he’s older. Their fingers are laced together and it makes Harry’s insides go warm.

            The stairs are loud and groan under each footstep. The noise makes Harry squeeze Louis’s hand tighter. The light isn’t moving so they can see far into the ocean and far across the neighborhood. It’s incredibly pretty and it takes Harry’s breath away.

            They walk slowly down the stairs because they’re not easy to get down. Still holding onto Harry’s hand, Louis drags him down to the shore. Louis insists they build a sandcastle; Harry is a hardworking builder but Louis is not; Louis is a better architect. Harry follows all of Louis’s directions, and in the end it’s a rather wonderful structure. Louis flops back into the sand when they’re done, and Harry lays back gently next to him.

            “We should be beach best mates,” Louis proclaims.

            “I’d like that,” Harry responds. Louis turns his head, the sand gathering in his hair, and smiles widely at Harry.

            “Me too,” Louis exclaims.

            They spend almost every day together that summer. Harry gets more bumps and bruises than any other time in his life. Louis tells Harry begrudgingly and with a bit of annoyance that he reads more books than any other time in his life because Harry enthusiastically shares his books with Louis.

            On the last day of their summer together, Louis carves their names into the bottom-left corner of the lighthouse’s door. Harry runs his fingers over the engraving when Louis’s done and looking incredibly proud of himself: Louis + Harry.

            They keep in touch through e-mail and regular mail throughout the school year. At first, Harry’s mum thinks it’s cute and takes him to the post office everyday, but after a few weeks, she limits the deliveries to once a week. They send jokes and notes back and forth to each other throughout the year, and Harry can’t wait to return to the beach in the summer.

 

**2004 10 and 12**

            The first three days of being at the beach, Harry dutifully goes down to the lighthouse. He brings _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_ to read each day. He’s almost done on the third day and glad that he’s brought the series when Louis arrives with two little girls holding his hands.

            Louis looks tired. His hair is askew and maybe it’s supposed to look like that, but Harry’s not sure if that’s on purpose. Harry’s hair gets a little wild when it gets too long so maybe Louis’s does too.

            His sisters aren’t very old maybe six and four. Louis hands the older one a bag of sand toys and shoos them a little bit away from him and Harry. Harry’s not sure what it’s like to have younger siblings, but it’s always looked fun to him.

            “Hi Harry,” Louis greets as he plops down next to Harry in the sand and immediately hooks his chin over Harry’s shoulder, “What are you reading?”

            “Harry Potter,” Harry replies.

            “I’ve always wanted to read those, never gotten the chance. Read them to me, will you Harold?”

            “Okay,” Harry agrees, “I’ll start over.”

            “No, no, don’t do that. Just tell me what happened.”

            Harry regales Louis with Harry Potter’s adventures from the first two books. Louis makes sounds of interest as his head slowly migrates to Harry’s lap. Harry is running his hand through Louis’s hair as he reads the last few chapters, holding the book open with only one hand. He’s a little perturbed when he looks down and Louis’s fallen asleep. He decides to put the book aside and watch the ocean instead. After awhile Harry starts getting antsy, but he doesn’t want to wake Louis up, even though Harry is a little upset with him for falling asleep.

            The older blonde girl comes up to him after about an hour and says, “Fizzy has to go to the bathroom.”

            “Okay,” Harry responds. He’s not sure why she’s telling him; they can just go in the bushes like he and Louis do, “Go over there.”

            “We’re girls,” she scoffs.

            “Louis, wake up,” Harry calls, gently shaking Louis’s shoulder until his eyes open.

            “Wha?” Louis asks rubbing his eyes.

            “Fizzy has to go potty,” Lottie orders.

            “Okay, okay,” Louis grumbles, pushing himself up and reaching his hand out for Fizzy and then Lottie. He calls to Harry, “You might as well come too.”

            They’ve never gone beyond the spot under the lighthouse. Gemma had teased him that Louis didn’t even really exist that he had made him up in his mind. He wonders if it becomes less magical the further away from their lighthouse that they get.

            When they get to their beach house, it’s much smaller than Harry was expecting. It’s smaller than the one Robin has rented the last two years, and Harry knows that they have more people in their family. He waits outside because he’s told the twins are sleeping. A frazzled woman, who looks younger than his own mum, comes outside and sits down next to him.

            “You’re Harry,” she says. He nods and she smiles at him, “Thank you for being so good to my boy.”

            He’s not sure what she means, but he nods again, “You’re welcome.”

            “He missed you something fierce this year and there’s a lot going on here with the new babies, so I’m glad that he has you.”

            “I’m glad too,” he responds.

            “We hug a lot, do you mind a hug?” She asks him.

            He shakes his head ‘no,’ and then clarifies, “I like hugs.”

            “Good,” she laughs and wraps him in a hug. It’s not like when his mum hugs him, but it’s still a mum hug. Instead of smelling like coffee, cinnamon, and home like his mum, she smells like spit-up, tea, and the same detergent Louis smells like. She pats Harry’s head as she leaves. She kisses Louis’s forehead when he walks onto the porch and whispers something to him. He smiles at her and runs to Harry, grabbing his hand.

            “Mum says I don’t have to watch the girls; come on, Hazza,” Louis hollers. Harry laughs gleefully and lets Louis drag him onto their next adventure, which happens to just be going to the top of their lighthouse.

            “Wanted to do this all day, but couldn’t with the girls because it’s just for the two of us,” Louis says, as they lean on the windowsill to look out over the ocean. Happiness flares in Harry’s stomach and he could stay in this spot all summer.

            They don’t get that chance, though, because more days than not Louis has to watch his sisters, which is okay with Harry because they’re pretty fun. Harry actually does a lot of the babysitting because Louis is always so tired. He never tells Harry why, but Harry thinks it’s because Louis helps his mum a lot, maybe too much.

            Lottie is so much like Louis; she’s vivacious and bossy, and Harry loves her. Fizzy is more like Harry; even though she’s only four, she’s calculating and sweet. Harry lets Lottie paint his nails one afternoon because she’s so insistent and he doesn’t really mind. She paints them neon green because it’s a “boy” color. Other afternoons, he reads the Lighthouse Keeper tales to the girls while Louis naps on a towel in the sand.

            Most of the summer is spent teaching the girls how to fly kites. Robin shows Harry how to make a kite one evening, and then Harry teaches Louis and the girls the next day. Harry’s mum continues to give him supplies and they try all kinds of different materials to see which ones fly the best.

            The best times, nevertheless, are when he and Louis are alone together. They spend a lot more time up in the lighthouse looking out across the channel or building sandcastles that the water usually smashes. One night, Robin and his mum take them to the pier and let them ride every ride to their hearts’ content. Louis digs his face into Harry’s neck when they go on the scrambler and Harry squeezes Louis’s hand tightly on the rollercoaster.

            On the last day of the summer, Louis squeezes Harry so tightly his ribs creak. A whispered, “thank you,” tickles Harry’s ear. Again, the other eleven months of the year go by so slowly.

 

**2005 11 and 13**

            For the first time, Louis is waiting for Harry under the lighthouse. He’s kicking around a football. When he kicks it, the ball rolls until it can’t anymore, covered in murky sand. Louis looks up at the same time that Harry gets within shouting distance.

            “Hazza,” Louis screams and runs at him full-tilt. The force of the hug knocks them both to the ground. They’re laughing and Louis is nuzzling Harry’s neck to make him squeal. They scramble in the sand for a few minutes, giggling and squawking delightedly.

            “I missed you, H,” Louis declares as he rolls off of Harry onto his back.

            “Missed you too,” Harry murmurs, spitting sand out of his mouth.

            “Want to play some footie?” Louis asks.

            “I’m not good at footie,” Harry mumbles, sitting up and bringing his knees to his chest. He’s not good at all, actually; he’d tried to play a few times, but each time his teammates had gotten so exasperated with him that he spent much of his time on the bench. His mum had placated him by saying his foot-eye coordination would probably get better as he got older but no such luck. He’s worried that Louis will like him less, or not at all, if Louis sees how badly Harry plays footie.

            “I’ll teach you; I played with the Rovers,” Louis blusters.

            “I’m not good.”

            “That’s okay; I’m great at footie and I’m a good teacher, Harold,” Louis assures.

            “Okay,” Harry relents.

            So footie lessons begin that afternoon when Harry changes into athletic shorts and a t-shirt. Louis starts off with the basics and he sounds like he’s mimicking a coach he once had. Every time Harry attempts something and messes up, he expects Louis to yell at him but he doesn’t; he’s more patient than Harry thought he could be. Louis is almost as patient with him as he is with his sisters.

            Louis has been trying to teach him the basics for nearly a week when Harry is the one who gets frustrated. Louis is trying to teach him, again, how to kick the ball in a straight line. Harry listens to what Louis says, he understands why he’s saying it, he gets what Louis means, but he just can’t get his body to cooperate. He screams in irritation and stalks off to another part of the beach, angry with himself for not being able to follow along and please Louis.

            “Hazza, wait,” Louis yells after him. Harry ignores him because he doesn’t want to hear Louis’s promises. He knows that if he doesn’t learn soon, Louis won’t like him anymore and they’ll slowly stop being friends. When Louis gets closer, Harry jumps up from where he’s sitting to run.

            He runs as fast as he can because while his foot-eye coordination is not very good, his mum has had him in tennis lessons since he was three and his coach always makes him run. He runs until he comes to the patch of trees in the park near the beach. He’s never told anyone about this place, not even Louis. He presses his back against the trunk of the largest tree and allows himself to finally start crying. His nose is snotty and his eyes are burning when Louis finally finds him, out of breath.

            “It’s okay, Hazza,” Louis promises as he wraps him in a hug. His chin locks over Harry’s shoulder, “We don’t have to play footie anymore.”

            “But you love football,” Harry reminds.

            “Yeah, well,” Louis huffs.

            “It’s okay if you don’t want to be friends with me anymore. I understand.”

            “Don’t be daft, Harry. You’re my beach best mate.”

            “But I’m not any good at footie.”

            “Doesn’t matter,” Louis assures.

            “You always want to play footie.”

            “If it bothers you all that much, we can still play footie. I don’t care if you aren’t good at it. It doesn’t matter, and you can always be on my team.”

            “Always?”

            “Yep, always.”

            Louis keeps that promise. Harry doesn’t like it, but there seems to be more children on the beach this year. Therefore, there’s more people to play with and more footie games to play. Louis always picks Harry first and they always win because Louis plays hard enough for the both of them.

            At the end of that summer, Louis gives Harry his favorite football and says, “Keep practicing. But even if you don’t get better, I’ll still be your beach best mate.”

 

**2006 12 and 14**

            Louis and Harry are walking up to the lighthouse at the same time this summer. Louis looks a lot older than he did last year, and Harry wishes he did but he still hasn’t reached his growth spurt.

            “Hazza,” Louis cries fondly.

            “Lou,” Harry responds. They hug fiercely.

            There’s no real rhyme or reason to what they do that summer. They play a few more video games than any other year and Louis tells a lot more dirty jokes, but it’s still what Harry spends the whole year waiting for.

            One afternoon, they’re lying in the sand in the shade of their lighthouse after playing an intense game of football. Louis is still throwing the ball above his head and humming “Hey There Delilah,” by the Plain White T’s.

            “Have you ever been kissed, Harold?” Louis asks suddenly, jokingly.

            “Yeah,” Harry murmurs.

            “You dog,” Louis cries; he drops the football to the side, all but forgotten in his exclamation, rolling onto his stomach to look at Harry.

            “Are you going to share?” Louis asks.

            “I don’t think so,” Harry replies, “My sister says it’s not nice to kiss and tell.”

            “But I’m your best friend,” Louis replies outraged.

            “Beach best mate,” Harry dismisses on a giggle.

            “You fucker,” Louis growls and reaches out to tickle Harry.

            “Okay, I’ll tell you,” Harry concedes after a few too many moments of tickling.

            “Her name’s Georgia. She was my friend’s girlfriend’s friend and they were over at my house. We were watching a film and he started kissing his girlfriend. It was weird, so I kissed Georgia because it was weird to not be kissing. That made it even weirder, I think. I don’t remember much about it.”

            “I kissed a girl named Amber in Year Five too. It was in my backyard. I don’t remember anything about it,” Louis responds and he’s oddly close to Harry’s face. Harry can smell the Gatorade they just drank on Louis’s breath.

            “Have you ever kissed a boy?” Louis asks mutedly.

            “No,” Harry responds; he wants to cry out that it’s all he’s wanted the last two years, well, one boy in particular.

            “Me neither,” Louis agrees and his voice gets a little higher when he asks, “Do you want to try?”

            “Yes,” Harry whispers.

            Louis’s lips touch his; they’re soft and chapped against Harry’s. Louis’s hands are sandy when they thread themselves in Harry’s hair. Harry pulls away to breath and then dives back onto Louis’s lips. They pull away after a few more minutes of kissing. They both flop back onto their backs.

            “Much better than Amber what’s-her-face.”

            “Yeah,” Harry concurs.

            They do not kiss again that summer, no matter how desperate Harry is to try again and again.

 

**2007 13 and 15**

            Harry waits three days before he follows the path to the beach house the Tomlinsons usually rent. He’s built himself up to kiss Louis again, to make him his beach boyfriend. He knocks loudly on the door. Jay comes to the door, two toddlers peeking around her knees.

            “He didn’t tell you?” Jay asks, and Harry’s not sure what she’s talking about so he shrugs his shoulders.

            “He told you about NCS, yeah?” Jay questions, and Harry nods. It was all Louis could talk about in his emails was how much he wanted to stay away with the Rovers. He was so excited.

            “He said he didn’t get in.”

            “They had a spot open in the first summer session. I know he always tries to get the programs that happen in August so he doesn’t miss his time here. He was devastated to miss the beach, but he had to go. It is a once in a lifetime opportunity, you understand Harry, don’t you?”

            Harry’s happy for him, really, but he’s miserable for himself. Harry nods numbly after a few seconds as she hands him a letter, “He told me to give this to you. I’m sorry, Harry.”

            “Thanks,” he whispers as he tries not to cry. He rushes down the stairs, almost plowing into Mark and Lottie.

            “Hi, Harry,” Lottie calls.

            “Hi, Lotts,” he exclaims, but it sounds like a sob and Harry buries his face in his hands as he runs back to the beach. He’s lucky when he falls that he only gets scuffed hands and knees and not a busted face. He sits under their lighthouse and cries, picking at the scuffed skin of his hands.

            The letter is an apology letter, but it’s brimming with Louis’s excitement about NCS. It doesn’t make Harry feel any better, which makes him oddly feel a little worse; he rips up the letter and throws it into the ocean. He spends the rest of the summer sulking in his room, reading _A Series of Unfortunate Events._ He feels a lot like the Baudelaire orphans, except he doesn’t have a crazy uncle to keep him busy from missing Louis.

 

**2008 14 and 16**

            Harry’s hair has grown out a little bit and he’s grown a little bit into his body. He has more confidence than ever; it probably has something to do with the band he’s forming with his friends back in Holmes Chapel, White Eskimo. He’s humming “Valerie” when Louis shows up. He doesn’t really look like Harry’s Louis; he’s broader and he has the same haircut as all the douche-bags at Harry’s school, but then he smiles and becomes Harry’s Louis all over again.

            “I love that song,” Louis sighs, “It was the song I sang at the X-Factor, don’t you know Harold?”

            “You sang at the X-Factor?”

            “Yeah, didn’t get through though, did I?”

            “But you have a great voice.”

            “Not as great as yours,” Louis rejoins.

            He drops down in the sand next to Harry, shouldering his way under Harry’s arm, “Missed you, Haz, so much.”

            “Always miss you,” Harry whispers.

            “I’m so sorry about last year,” Louis breathes out onto Harry’s neck.

            “’S okay. Once in a lifetime, yeah?”

            “Yeah.”

            They’re both old enough now to go to the pier on their own. They ride bikes there and spend their days walking up and down it. They play pick-up games of footie, cause a little bit of mayhem, and sometimes bum enough money off their parents to ride some of the rides.

            There’s always a little bit of tension, though. Seething just below the surface. Harry wakes up too many mornings with sticky boxers and visions of Louis in his head. He can’t always get them out of his head, and on those days, Harry tries desperately to not let Louis get too close to him.

            “We should sleep on the beach,” Louis proclaims one evening as they watch the sunset.

            “It’s a little too sandy,” Harry reasons.

            “We have a tent and some sleeping bags back at the house,” Louis responds.

            “I’ll have to ask my mum.”

            “Okay, you go do that. I’ll ask my mum too. If you get permission, meet me back under the lighthouse.”

            “Okay.”

            His mum gives him permission easily and sends him on his way back to the beach after a taco dinner. She sends him with a few apples, some bags of crisps, and several bottles of juice. Louis is grumbling at a tent when Harry arrives. The stars are numerous in the sky and blinking rapidly at them. Harry has started believing less and less in magic, but this night is magical. This is a starry night with his best beach mate whom he can’t stop dreaming about.

            Under their lighthouse, they share another kiss. This time they’re both more experienced and they dig their hands into each other’s hair. The sand getting caught in locks of hair. Their hands wander more and they tumble into the tent. They lounge next to each other; Harry kisses Louis’s neck and Louis runs his fingers up and down Harry’s sides. It’s nice and Harry wishes it could last as long as the waves outside.

            When Harry’s fingers play at the band of Louis’s athletic shorts, Louis stops Harry’s hand and decrees, “You’re too young, Harry.”

            “What?”

            “You’re too young. I’m not taking all of your innocence,” Louis hisses against Harry’s forehead.

            “I’m not that young,” Harry grouses.

            “You are, but that’s okay, I’m glad you’re innocent. I’d still like to kiss you, but we can’t do anything else.”

            Harry wants to rail against this self-imposed limit, but he can hear the finite quality in Louis’s voice. He nods in response. Louis smiles and kisses his forehead before returning his lips to Harry’s. His hands never wander below Harry’s waist that summer, no matter how desperate Harry is.

 

**2009 15 and 17**

            The recession hits both families hard; neither have the time or money to spend a month on the ocean. Harry and Louis text each other like mad, but it’s not the same as leaning into each other’s sides. Then in the middle of the summer, Louis texts him that he’s dating a girl named Hannah. It’s probably the worst summer of Harry’s life.

 

_It’s been years_

_Since we whispered soft_

_With the torch light on_

_And the big light off_

_We were tired boys_

_With the soap on our skin_

_And we’d fall asleep to the wind_

_And we’d dream on and on and on and on_

_On and on and on and on_

_On and on and on and on_

 

**2010 16 and 18**

            The Louis that approaches him is softer around the edges. The douche-bag haircut is gone and the baggy jeans are gone too; he has fringe swooped across his forehead, a pair of jogging bottoms pushed up over his calves, and a striped t-shirt. It’s funny how, even though Louis looks softer, he also looks older, like maybe the world has taught him that it’s okay to be himself. Harry sure hopes so.

            Harry knows how much more he’s grown into himself. He probably still has a few more inches to grow, and he’ll hopefully get broader across the chest, but he knows he’s cute, at least that’s what the girls at school say all the time.

            “My Hazza,” Louis calls as he curls his toes into the sand and meanders to where Harry’s sitting on a rock below their lighthouse.

            “Hi Lou,” Harry responds, and his face hurts with how much he smiles.

            “You know what feels like ages since we’ve done it?”

            Harry wants to say kissed, but he refrains and replies, “Gone swimming.”

            “It’s too cold to go swimming,” Louis replies blandly, and it usually always is. There have only been a few summers warm enough to allow a dip in a pool, much less the channel.

            “I don’t know,” Harry replies brazenly, shrugging his shoulders and biting his lip.

            “When did you get cheeky,” Louis asks appalled but does not wait for Harry’s response, “I was talking about going to the top of the lighthouse.”

            “We do that every year,” Harry laughs.

            “Not last year.”

            “Well, yeah,” Harry concedes, “Let’s go then.”

            It seems less scary than it did the first time they tromped up this winding staircase. It’s not as intimidating. Instead of looking haunted, it just looks slightly decrepit. There is a lighthouse keeper, but he only comes on Tuesday and Thursday nights Harry and Louis have learned. It hasn’t been truly operational in decades, but it’s theirs. They sit on the floor at the top and look out the windows. The waves are a harmonious backdrop to their stark silence; the waves beat at the silence like they do on the rocks, smoothing the surface into something serene.

            It takes them a few moments to drop back into their easy way with each other; after all, it’s been nearly two years and they’re not little kids anymore. They’re budding into this adulthood that’s scary and sometimes Harry wants to crawl and claw his way back into childhood, back into days where the waves knocking into their sandcastles was his biggest worry, not his fast approaching Uni days or his budding non-platonic affection for his beach best mate.

            Louis’s the first one to initiate contact; he drops his head to Harry’s shoulder. Harry’s grin pulls ridiculously across his face, but he doesn’t say anything. He gently puts his head on top of Louis’s. Louis’s arms snake around Harry’s waist and Harry wraps his arm around Louis’s shoulders.

            “Hannah and I,” Louis begins and Harry tries to keep his breathing even, “broke up a few weeks ago.”

            Harry wants to cheer and clap, damn, he might go as far as to say he wants to throw a parade. Yet, he sits there as quietly as he can. He hopes Louis can’t register how excited he actually is.

            “How are you?” Harry asks, running his fingers through Louis’s hair.

            “I’m okay; we ended it friendly. It just wasn’t working. We felt more like friends than boyfriend and girlfriend. Anyways, she’s going away for uni and I’m taking a gap year. It wouldn’t have worked out anyway that you look at it.”

            “It’s okay if you’re sad,” Harry whispers.

            “Thanks, Haz,” Louis mumbles into Harry’s clavicle and it tickles Harry, sending thrilled shockwaves through Harry’s body. Harry feels his neck getting wet and he holds Louis tighter, making soothing noises. After quite some time, Harry presses his lips to Louis’s forehead and Louis lets out a watery laugh, “I’ve missed you so much.”

            “I’ve missed you too,” Harry beams.

            “I also broke it off because I thought maybe you and I…” Louis trails off and Harry can feel the way Louis tenses under his hand, “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

            “It’s not stupid,” Harry responds, his voice a little squeaky.

            “You probably have the girls all over you. I guess I just hoped…I just hoped maybe you’d want me too. I don’t know why I thought it, this is so stupid.”

            “It’s not Louis. God, I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you.”

            “Do you mean it?” Louis asks, lifting his head from Harry’s shoulder.

            “More than anything,” Harry whispers sincerely.

            Louis lunges forward and it’s not the romantic kiss Harry was hoping for. Their teeth clash, their noses bump, and Louis’s tears fall on Harry’s face. Despite all that, Harry doesn’t want the kiss to end. He feels ignited, like nothing could possibly get better than this moment. Louis pulls away from Harry’s mouth and tilts Harry’s head up. Louis kisses down the column of Harry’s throat, Louis softly pushes Harry onto his back, and Harry shivers. Louis straddles his hips and Harry’s body seizes with excitement. Louis sucks softly on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and Harry bucks up into Louis. Harry can feel Louis’s smile against his neck. He grabs Harry’s hands and pins them above his head. He presses up into Louis with a whimper and rocks his hips under Louis. Louis smirks down at him and grinds obscenely down onto him. Harry thrusts his hips up with a groan and Louis’s grin is unruly. He bucks again this time jostling Louis enough that Louis lets out a little growl.

            “Please,” Harry moans, and he’s not even really sure what he’s asking for. Sure, he’s done something like this with a few girls and a couple of boys, but he wants so much more with Louis. Louis grinds lasciviously against him and Harry comes with a high shriek. Louis nips at Harry’s neck, and Harry takes a shaky breath, “Fuck, Lou.”

            Louis laughs loudly, “I love the way you say fuck,” he mumbles into Harry’s ear. Harry cackles in response. Louis bucks a few times against Harry’s hip, and Harry feels his dick twitch. Louis comes with a moan he muffles in Harry’s shoulder.

            “Can we do that again?”

            “I’d love it if you’d just wait.”

            “I meant this summer, not now, I feel gross now.”

            Louis chuckles against Harry’s neck, “Are you calling me gross, Harold?”

            “My boxers are sticking to my skin.”

            Louis laughs again, and Harry doesn’t think the stickiness is so bad when Louis giggles like that in his ear. That feeling only lasts a few more moments because the tackiness becomes overwhelming, and Harry feels the desperate need for a shower.

            “I smell like spunk. My mum will definitely know that something is up if I don’t wash up now,” Louis declares.

            “How exactly are we going to wash up without taking a shower?”

            “Let’s jump in the ocean.”

            “It’s only eighteen degrees and the water is probably colder.”

            “So you’re a chicken then Hazza?”

            “Realistic,” Harry grumbles.

            “Don’t be cross, H, be brave,” Louis whispers into Harry’s neck.

            “You’re annoying,” Harry teases.

            “But you’ll do it, right?”

            “Yeah, I guess.”

            They kick their shoes to the side and shuffle to the shore. Harry really does feel gross and he thinks that if his mum didn’t smell the sex, she would definitely notice the way he would waddle into the house. The water laps at their toes and it’s beyond chilly, it’s downright cold. Harry is starting to regret this decision; he tries to start thinking of ways to sneak into his house without his mum seeing him. He doesn’t get to make that decision because Louis steps back, runs at Harry’s back, and tackles him into the water. Harry should’ve been prepared for it, but he isn’t and water ricochets up his nose. He comes out of the water coughing as Louis cackles. Harry shoves Louis’s shoulder, but that just makes Louis laugh harder. As he looks at the way Louis’s hair sticks out in all directions, he feels a curlicue of endearment. As annoying as he is, Harry thinks…knows that he’s falling in love with him, has probably been in love with him for years.

            The summer goes much the same as that first day, and Harry’s mum inquires as to why they’re now venturing into the water after all these years. Harry just turns pink, shrugs, and runs to his room.

            They have a lot more sleepovers on the beach that summer, which contain a lot more blowjobs and less stargazing than before. They make sure that they can still see the stars, though, through the screen mesh at the top of the tent.

            “I’m taking a gap year,” Louis pronounces while they lay in their boxers next to each other one evening. Usually, people are excited about their gap years, but Harry hears hesitation in his voice.

            “That’s cool,” Harry whispers and kisses a spot on Louis’s neck. Louis makes a vague noise of distaste, “What’s wrong?”

            “I can’t go to Uni; my mum needs more help at home. I think they’re going to get a divorce.”

            Harry doesn’t know how to respond to that; he knows how much Louis loves Mark, and how he considers him more of a father than the man who abandoned him in infancy. He knows it’s not the same as when his parents got divorced. That was rather amicable; he doubts this one will be.

            He wraps his arms around Louis’s waist and squeezes tightly. Harry rests his head just below Louis’s chin and feels the silent sobs wrack Louis’s body. He doesn’t want him to feel this way; he wants to surround Louis with his love. After a while Louis stops crying, they sit in utter silence holding each other until Louis reaches down and palms Harry’s ass.

            Harry laughs and tilts up his head for a kiss. The kiss progresses into more and soon they’ve chucked their boxers and are grinding against each other.

            “Fuck me,” Harry murmurs into Louis’s hair as he sucks a bruise into Harry’s neck.

            “Do you mean it?” Louis asks, pulling away so he can look into Harry’s eyes.

            “Yes, I want to have you inside of me,” Harry admits, his cheeks flaming with the admission.

            “Oh, Hazza,” Louis groans into his neck.

            “Please,” Harry begs and Louis grinds his cock into Harry’s thigh. Harry moans and he hopes no one’s around to hear them.

            Louis scrambles down to get his trousers and digs through the pockets until he finds the lube and condom there. Harry laughs at his presumptuousness, but he guesses it’s not all that presumptuous because he’s let Louis finger him numerous times. After he has his materials, Louis lubes up his fingers. This is different than when they usually do it. Usually, Louis just does it to tease Harry just a little bit more. Now, he’s doing it with a specific intention and Harry shivers with that thought.

            Louis smears lube around Harry’s hole and then leans down to engulf his cock with his warm mouth. Harry feels his pulse race, and at first he thinks it’s with excitement, but as Louis gets closer and closer to penetrating him, it turns into something else. He feels like he can’t breathe as Louis lines himself up to push into him. He tries to tell Louis, but it comes out as only a squeak. It does grab Louis’s attention, and he looks up at Harry; his eyes blown wide with lust and adrenaline. When he registers Harry’s face, realization dawns bright in his eyes.

            “Shit, Harry,” Louis mumbles as he backs up. His voice filled with disgust. Harry curls into himself with shame and panic.

            He doesn’t realize that Louis’s disgust is with himself until Louis is running a tentative hand down Harry’s back and mumbling, “I’m so sorry Hazza, so sorry.”

            Harry wants to cry that it’s okay that his body is panicking because he’s been waiting so long for this moment that it couldn’t believe that it was happening. He’s not sure that Louis would understand, and he still can’t get his breathing under control enough to talk.

            “Deep breaths, love, deep breaths,” Louis croons gently; his soothing hand a good focal point for Harry’s breathing.

            When his throat finally unconstricts, Harry whimpers, “I’m sorry, Louis, I’m so sorry.”

            “Nothing to be sorry for,” Louis murmurs.

            “I’ve wanted that for so long. I guess my anxiety didn’t believe that my fantasies were coming true and panicked instead.”

            “It’s okay, H. It’s okay,” Louis consoles, running his hand through Harry’s curls now. After awhile, Louis adds, “You never told me you had anxiety.”

            “It’s usually not that bad in the summer,” Harry confesses and then adds, “When I’m with you.”

            “I wish you had told me,” Louis whispers.

            “I’m sorry,” Harry says, and he can feel the anxiety rising up his throat and the tears building.

            “I just never wanted to hurt you like that. It’s not your fault. I just… I just feel awful for hurting you.”

            “You didn’t hurt me,” Harry promises, and then he thinks contemptuously, _My brain is what hurt me._

            “I’m still sorry,” Louis responds.

            “You can lay down,” Harry orders.

            “Okay,” Louis agrees, but he lies down so there is space between their bodies. They haven’t slept like this since they were young boys. Harry won’t allow it, so he presses his ass back into the cradle of Louis’s hips. Louis inches away. They keep doing the same thing over and over until Louis almost falls off the blowup mattress.

            “Please,” Harry pleads.

            “I don’t want, I can’t,” Louis mumbles, “I can’t hurt you again.”

            “We do this all the time, I’ll be fine. My brain freaked out because you fucking me has been my wank fantasy for years now and it was coming true and it couldn’t function. You didn’t hurt me,” Harry reiterates.

            “I’ve been your wank fantasy for years?” Louis teases, as he gets a little bit closer.

            “Shut up,” Harry mumbles as he slips into sleep.

            They don’t try to have sex again that summer, no matter how much Harry wants to at least try. He understands Louis’s hesitations.

            The rest of the year is glorious because Louis saves up enough to buy a car and he comes and visits Harry occasionally. They don’t do much romantically because Louis is too scared of Harry’s mum hearing. Harry’s alright with that; Louis is like having a little bit of summer, a little bit of the ocean all year long.

 

**2011 17 and 19**

            Harry hasn’t seen Louis since his birthday in February, which was the loveliest surprise of his life. He doesn’t mind admitting that he cried when he saw Louis’s bright smiling face through the window of the front door.

            Louis is already lying under the lighthouse when Harry arrives, his arms thrown over his eyes to block the sun. Harry straddles him in greeting and kisses his cheeks. Louis snorts with happiness and removes his arms from over his eyes. Harry nearly falls off of him when he sees his red-rimmed eyes.

            “What’s wrong?”

            “My mum and Mark are getting divorced,” he sobs, “They were trying one last time on this vacation, but all they’re doing is fighting. Me mum canceled our stay so we’re leaving in three days, Mark already went home said he’s going to clean out his stuff, but I don’t want to leave, I don’t want to leave you, Hazza.”

            Harry shushes Louis, petting his hair softly and hoping with all of his being that this is some cruel joke he’ll wake up from, but it’s not. They make the most of the three days they have together. Louis refuses outright to go back to stay with his family for the rest of the three days after he grabs a bag on the first afternoon. Harry sees the tears in the girls’ eyes and Louis’s mum’s, but he isn’t going to argue with an angry and heartbroken Louis.

            They’re laying on the blowup mattress that first night, looking up at the stars when Harry whispers, “I’m ready.”

            “For what?”

            “For you to fuck me.”

            “Hazza,” Louis responds hesitantly.

            “I know, I know, but I want you to. I know you want to. I think I know how to stop the panic attack from coming. Just trust me that I want this, okay?”

            “Okay, yeah,” Louis agrees.

            They’re already only in their boxers, so when Louis rolls on top of Harry, he doesn’t worry about shucking clothes first. He worries about peppering Harry with kisses, marks, and nips up and down his body. He marks Harry’s neck, laves at his nipples, and kisses down his happy trail. Harry’s already hard and desperate for Louis’s touch. The lube is already within reaching distance. He drags Harry’s boxers down tentatively, placing reverent kisses on the skin that he reveals. Harry wants to scream in anticipation, but he doesn’t want to frighten Louis from his task.

            Once Harry’s boxers are completely shucked and Harry is feeling thoroughly teased, Louis lubes his fingers and presses cautiously against Harry’s puckered skin. Louis watches his face the whole time and Harry tries to grin approvingly at him.

            “You look like a loon,” Louis mutters.

            “I’m just trying to be encouraging.”

            “A moan is always good,” Louis jokes but presses a kiss to Harry’s mouth before he can moan outlandishly.

            He doesn’t need to fake his moans because Louis starts hitting his prostate with alarming accuracy. Louis bites at Harry’s hip and licks a teasing stripe up Harry’s cock. Harry’s hips jolt out of their own accord and Louis’s smile is gratification personified. Louis teases Harry’s cock with his mouth as Louis gets up to three fingers in Harry’s ass before he pulls them out gently. He pushes Harry’s legs up and Harry focuses on his breathing.

            “Love, you good?” Louis asks.

            “Yeah,” Harry murmurs and he smiles blissfully at Louis. He can see Louis’s face waver as he tries to figure out how he’s going to guide himself and watch Harry’s face at the same time, “It’s okay, Lou.”

            Louis nods, leaning forward to give Harry a brief kiss while he lubes himself up. He concentrates on guiding himself in, but the second he’s a little bit in he checks on Harry.

            “I’m good, great even,” Harry responds to the nonverbal question written on Louis’s face. Louis proceeds slowly, sliding into Harry’s body as he checks for any sign of hyperventilation or discomfort. Once Louis is fully seated in Harry, Louis leans in for a kiss. Harry places his hands reverently on Louis’s cheeks and deepens the kiss. As the kiss progresses, Louis starts thrusting his hips. They’re calculated, slow, and completely unnerving. Harry squirms in desperation, clenching around Louis when he pulls back.

            “Fuck,” Louis groans, and his thrusts get erratic and deeper. He wraps his hand around Harry’s dick and jerks him a few times. What finally sends Harry over the edge is when Louis nudges his prostate. He keens as the coil in his stomach ignites and unfurls into his orgasm. He doesn’t even realize when Louis comes until Louis is lying on his back next to him.

            “That was fantastic,” Harry babbles.

            “Bloody fantastic,” Louis laughs.

            They just lay next to each other for a while. Louis eventually rolls off the bed to clean up; he comes back with a wipe for Harry and cleans him off quickly.

            “Thanks,” Harry murmurs as he rolls onto his side, ready for Louis to spoon in behind him.

            The next day they go to the pier and ride all of their favorite rides. Harry uses a lot of the money he saved up working at the bakery just to see Louis grin where his eyes actually glow.

            They spend that night on the beach as well, closer than close.

            The next day they bask in the shadow of their lighthouse. They reminiscence over the past few years and tell each other stories about their lives. Louis tells Harry about the Uni he’s gotten into and he’s so damn wistful. Harry thinks that it takes an ardent observer to see how nervous Louis is to leave his home both for himself and for his family.

            They crawl into the tent earlier than usual; the sky is still streaked with amethyst, sapphire and amber. Robin had grilled for them while Anne had entertained them with a few games of Scrabble. The top is off the tent as usual unless it rains, and they’re staring at the sky through the mesh top.

            “Fuck me,” Louis hums, and Harry thinks he hears him wrong at first until he rolls onto his stomach and enunciates the words this time.

            “I’ve never,” Harry mutters.

            “It’s okay. I just want to feel you.”

            “For you, then.”

            Louis lunges at him and their teeth haven’t banged together like this since their first kiss last summer. Harry smiles against Louis’s lips, and Louis laughs hot air against Harry’s mouth. They grope each other and by now they know what the other likes.

            “Watch me,” Louis commands and Harry freezes as Louis wantonly throws himself against the mattress, grabs the lube, lifts his legs, and fingers himself open. Harry lifts up Louis’s leg and kisses right above his knee. Harry slowly inches his kisses up Louis’s thighs until he gets to the place where Louis’s fingers are buried within himself. Harry kisses the skin stretched around Louis’s fingers, and then he licks Louis’s cock. Louis shifts his hips and moans.

            “I’m ready,” Louis whispers.

            “Are you sure?”

            “Yeah, babe, I’m sure,” Louis smiles.

            Harry rolls the condom onto his cock and kisses Louis softly. Harry presses in slowly and is engulfed by Louis’s body. It’s intoxicating and Harry’s hips shift quickly, rutting into Louis. He holds Louis’s hips still as he presses harder and harder into him. Louis makes a high-pitched, almost pained noise as Harry comes. Harry reaches for Louis’s cock because there’s no way he got off as quickly as Harry did, but Louis is soft. Louis looks up at him with a sweet, indulgent smile, and Harry feels shame flutter through his body.

            “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

            “Nothing to be sorry for,” Louis responds softly, “What’s wrong, H?”

            “Nothing, I’ve got to go. I don’t feel very well,” Harry proclaims as embarrassment flies through his body, and he knows that Louis is probably just being nice to him while thinking he’s a horrible lover.

            “I’ll walk you back, give me a second.”

            “No, no, that’s okay.”

            “H, are you mad at me?”

            “No, never,” Harry promises as he feels the bile rise up his throat. At that, he pulls on his joggers and sprint out of there. The next morning when he trudges back to the beach as the sun is rising because he regrets leaving like that. The tent is gone.

            They still text sometimes, but Louis goes to uni and doesn’t visit again. Harry feels mortified and crushed.

 

**2012 18 and 20**

            Harry expects it, but the divorce means he doesn’t see Louis that summer. Louis’s enjoying uni and Harry considered going to the same university just to be close to him, but he doesn’t think it would be the same. Their texting isn’t as vibrant as it used to be, but they’re both busy and that last day has created this endless rift. Harry gets it; he really does or at least that’s what he tells himself.

          

**2013 19 and 21**

            Harry doesn’t think Louis’s family is going to go to the beach again this year. At least, that’s what Lottie had said in her text when Louis hadn’t texted him back.

            He decides he should move on, even if his heart cringes at the thought of it.

            He goes backpacking with Niall; Zayn joins them occasionally and it’s quite fun. It’s nice to have new people to hang out with. He and Zayn sometimes fuck when Niall goes back with a girl; it helps Harry forget about Louis, a little bit.

           

**2014 20 and 22**

            Robin’s feeling nostalgic and instead of renting just a little apartment for him and Harry’s mum. He rents a whole house because he wants to convince Harry and Gemma to accompany them. However, to do that they need enough room in the house for all the friends and significant others that Gemma and Harry will want to bring along.

            The first person to accompany Harry is Niall whom Harry’s mum immediately falls in love with. He’s bright, bubbly, and kind. To top that off, he always offers to help Harry’s mum do the dishes.

            When Niall isn’t helping Harry’s mum, Harry and Niall spend the first few days on the pier, exploring. Harry is pretty sure that Niall tries to make himself puke because he eats all the fried goods that the pier has to offer and then wants to ride anything that will tip him upside down. Harry doesn’t always accompany him because Harry is not a fan of jarring rides; he’s only ever gone on them with Louis.

            After Niall has ridden every ride a handful of times, they start on their next adventure, which just happens to be something not so adventurous, golf. Robin loves it; he loves having someone who will accompany him on those eighteen holes. Niall is much better at golf than Harry was expecting and Harry has a lot of fun wearing all of the crazy outfits. It’s a much better time than Harry anticipated it to be.

            After a few weeks, Niall has to go back to Ireland to see his family, so Zayn is the next one to visit. Harry and Zayn spend a lot less time on the pier and a lot more time on the beach. Harry never lets them wander to the lighthouse; in fact, even when Zayn points out how beautiful the lighthouse is, Harry avoids it entirely.

            Zayn’s visit is a wholly different kind of fun from Niall’s visit. They sneak around and have a lot of sex. Whenever Robin and his mum go to the pier, they have sex in Harry’s bedroom. Gemma and her boyfriend learn to make themselves scarce when Robin and their mum are going to be gone.

            Zayn also pulls out Harry’s exhibitionist side and they have sex on the beach and in the bathroom at the nightclubs in the area. They’re virtually dating but they won’t put a name on it; they’re just having fun and Harry is all right with that.

            Zayn is beautiful, rough around the edges, intelligent, and so very kind to Harry. Harry knows that parts of Zayn remind him so much of Louis. It’s stupid and unfair to Zayn to make him some sort of replacement, but they’ve never pretended that they were going to last. That lack of promise placates Harry’s guilt for still being in love with Louis while he has sex with Zayn.

            Harry is pretty sure Zayn understands that they will never be in love. One night Zayn asks who he’s in love with, and Harry tells him about Louis: how they met, how he fell in love, and how he was Harry’s first. He doesn’t tell Zayn about that last night; it ruins the epic quality of Harry and Louis’s love story, and he’s still ashamed by the whole situation.

            Finally, one night when they’re drunk, he tells Zayn about that last night. Zayn laughs and tells Harry that he’s an idiot. Zayn explains that Harry is the most attentive partner he’s ever had and he doubts that he was less attentive to the love of his life. Harry agrees with him because Zayn is so adamant but he doesn’t really believe it.

 

_Cos we’re circles_

_We’re circles you see_

_We go round round the sun_

_In and out like the sea_

_I’ll circle round you_

_You will circle round me_

 

**2015 21 and 23**

            It’s the first full day of summer and Zayn is standing on Harry’s doormat with a six-pack of hipster beer and a hesitant smile. Harry kisses Zayn’s cheek and Zayn doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t run his caressing hand down Harry’s side either.

            It’s not that they’re dating per se because Harry doesn’t think this is what a relationship is like, but they do spend a lot of time together, mostly fucking, and neither one of them is seeing someone else, or at least Harry isn’t. It’s really about the sex, Harry thinks. They care about each other, for sure, but like friends do. Harry can’t see himself with Zayn for the rest of his life, and maybe that’s because he’s always imagined himself with Louis.

            “What’s going on?” Harry asks as they sit down on his and Niall’s decrepit thrift-store find of a couch. Harry pulls his long legs up underneath him because he’s always felt safer this way, even though he’s impossibly taller than he was as a child.

            “We can’t do this anymore,” Zayn spits out, and the words garble on his accent, which appears most frequently when he’s flustered.

            “We can’t do what anymore?” Harry asks, and he can feel his body trying to get smaller, trying to hide away.

            “Us.”

            “Clarify, please,” Harry begs.

            “We can’t keep fucking; I think I’ve met someone and I don’t want to ruin it with him.”

            “But friends, we’re still friends yeah?” Harry requests meekly.

            Zayn shoves him hard, “Don’t be a fucking imbecile.”

            Harry lets out the air trapped in his lungs, laughing a little as he rubs at his shoulder, and whines, “That hurt.”

            “Don’t care,” Zayn smirks, but then adds more softly, “I want you to meet him.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah, he’s having a party at his place this weekend. I want you to come. That okay, babe?”

            “Yeah, it’s alright with me.”

            He’s wearing his favorite polka-dotted shirt and his favorite pair of tight-ass jeans; he won’t admit it, but he wants to look good, better even than this other guy. He laughs because he sounds like a dick, even in his own head. He walks up to the flat that Zayn texted him the address to, and he can hear the bass through the front door.

            The first thing he hears when the door opens is the most unforgettable laugh in his memory. He almost doesn’t believe his own ears. He searches the room for him, and his clothes aren’t recognizable but the cock to his hips and boisterous laugh are. It’s like a gut punch when he sees Zayn leaning into him. Harry thinks about running as fast as he can out of there, but that’s also the exact moment that Zayn turns and sees him. Louis turns too, and his eyes and mouth get wide with shock. Zayn doesn’t drag Louis over; instead, he reaches for another guy’s hand. This guy is taller and broader than Louis.

            “Harry, this is Liam,” Zayn introduces, “Liam, this is Harry.”

            “Hullo,” Liam says, reaching out his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

            “Yeah, nice to meet you too,” Harry responds, shaking Liam’s hand.

            Louis approaches them quickly, and says, “Haz.”

            “Lou,” Harry says softly.

            “This is your Louis,” Zayn nearly shouts and then mumbles, “What the fuck.”

            “Harry, like The Harry,” Liam mutters in Louis’s directions, and they both just nod to their respective friends.

            “We’ll leave you two alone,” Zayn declares.

            “Like hell we will,” Liam protests as Zayn drags him to talk to some others that are standing only a few feet away.

            “How are you?” Louis asks, scanning up and down Harry’s body.

            “I’m good, yeah,” Harry responds, “How are you?”

            “I’m good too, yeah.”

            “It’s been a long time,” Harry reminds, and he wants to say he’s missed him so much, but he doesn’t know how well that would go over.

            “Yeah, it’s really good to see you,” Louis replies. “Let’s get you a drink.”

            Harry raises his eyebrows, perturbed. Louis laughs, “Liam and I are roommates.”

            They go to the kitchen and Louis offers him a beer, which Harry accepts gladly. They talk and drink for most of the night. Catching up with Louis is some kind of sweet torture for Harry, and Harry is not sure what he did in a past life but it must’ve been bad.

            Almost everyone has left except a few friends who came in from out of town, and Liam and Zayn left them to go into Liam’s room. Harry is feeling perfectly buzzed and he doesn’t know how to leave; he doesn’t really want to leave.

            “Why’d you leave the way you did all those years ago?” Louis asks.

            “It’s embarrassing, really.”

            “What?”

            “You were soft,” Harry whispers, “And I knew that was my fault           because I wasn’t paying attention to you. I felt so stupid and mortified; I couldn’t face you being so sweet to me when I was such a disappointment.”

            Louis lets out a shocked laugh and mumbles, “You’re an idiot.”

            “I know,” Harry replies, shifting restlessly.

            “No, no, not for the reason you think. You’re an idiot because I was soft because you made me come untouched.”

            “What?”

            “I thought you left because I was such a cockslut and you thought I was gross,” Louis admits.

            “What?” Harry shouts, “I would’ve never thought that. I can’t believe that’s what you thought.”

            “I can’t believe you,” Louis chuckles.

            “I can’t believe you. I never would’ve thought that. I idolized you. I loved you.”

            “Haz,” Louis mumbles.

            “I mean it. I loved you,” Harry admits, and the alcohol is doing wonders for his candor, “I think I still carry a torch for you.”

            “Me too,” Louis smiles softly.

            “Do you mean it?” Harry asks.

            “Of course, I do, I’ve never lied to you.”

            “Oh thank god,” Harry mumbles. Louis laughs and Harry flings himself into Louis’s arms as they kiss.

            There’s something about finding a lost love that makes this summer legendary.

 

**2016 22 and 24**

            “Pack a bag,” Louis declares as he walks into their flat on the first Friday of summer after helping Liam in the studio, “I have a surprise for you.”

            “A surprise?” Harry questions as he kisses Louis hello.

            “Yeah, a massive, amazing surprise.”

            “As expected,” Harry laughs as Louis kisses him again.

            “Hurry up,” Louis orders, so Harry scurries into their bedroom and starts packing a bag.

            “For how long?”

            “A week.”

            “A week? Lou, I have work.”

            “Already called off for you.”

            “I’m sure they weren’t happy about that.”

            “Your boss is a little bit of a romantic as it turns out.”

            “Mr. Taylor?”

            “Yep, the very same. Did you know he’s been married to his wife for thirty-five years?”

            “No, I didn’t. You’re amazing.”

           Louis laughs and grabs Harry’s hand to drag him down the stairs. They get in Louis’s car, and Louis throws Harry a bandana, “Put this on.”

            “Kinky.”

            “Shut up.”

            Harry starts whining after about thirty minutes of being in the car, “How much longer?”

            “A while, you might as well take a nap.”

            Harry wonders if they’re going to Holmes Chapel or Doncaster, which is going to take a lot longer than he thinks he can handle with a blindfold over his eyes. He tips his seat backwards and curls into it. Louis turns The 1975 on low. Harry falls asleep quickly.

            Louis shakes Harry’s shoulder softly, “Wake up, babe.”

            “Are we here?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Can I take off the blindfold?”

            “Not yet.”

            Louis opens the door and takes Harry’s hand. Harry gets out of the car quickly and Louis guides him.

            “Be careful,” Louis says, and suddenly the ground gets soft under Harry’s feet. Louis guides him by holding onto both hands. Finally, he orders, “Stop.”

            Louis kisses his neck, and then he’s not touching Harry at all. He murmurs, “You can take it off.”

            The first thing Harry sees when he pulls off the blindfold is their lighthouse back-dropped by the sunset and then Louis on bended knee.

            “Lou,” Harry babbles adoringly; his eyes filling with excited tears.

            “I met you right here thirteen years ago, and you have lit up my world ever since. This past year has been more than I could have ever expected for my life, and I, selfishly, want that for the rest of my life. Will you do me the great honor of being my husband?”

            “Yes, yes, yes,” Harry cries as Louis slides the ring onto Harry’s ring finger.

            “I love you, H, so much,” Louis declares, standing up and kissing Harry vehemently.

            “I love you too,” Harry responds, pulling away. Tears flow down his cheeks, and he laughs giddily.

            Louis peppers his faces with kisses, “Don’t cry, love.”

            “I’m just so excited. This is what I’ve wanted since I realized I liked boys when I was ten, especially with you. Most especially with you.”

            When they get to their rental flat, they call all their friends and family. Their mums squeal with delight.

            They start thinking about their wedding but only after they make love.

 

**2017 23 and 25**

            “Are you ready?” Niall asks as he lounges on the chair in Harry’s room.

            “Yep,” Harry responds, popping the ‘p’.

            “I can’t believe you and him are going to end up together. It’s something right out of Disney,” Niall teases.

            “I know,” Harry laughs.

            “You two are so sappy getting married under the lighthouse where you met. I don’t know if anyone is more romantic than the two of you or clichéd.”

            Harry just smirks at Niall. Only a few more minutes and he’ll be marrying his beach best mate. The love of his life. His first crush, his first kiss (with a boy), his first time, his first and only love. It shouldn’t have worked out like this. People don’t usually get enchanted endings like this, but here he is anyways about to marry Louis.

            “You ready?” Zayn pops his head in.

            “Yeah.”

            “Louis is too.”

            First, Zayn walks down the aisle, standing at the top of the aisle, right under the lighthouse; he’d gotten ordained online because he wasn’t going to miss out on being a part of the ceremony. Liam and Niall walk down and stand on their respective sides. Their mums walk them down the aisle: Louis first and then Harry. He knows he should be talking to his mum or paying her some attention but he only has eyes for Louis whose smile is so big and ready.

            He and his mum stop at the top of the aisle, and she turns to look at him with tears in her eyes, “I’m so happy for you, baby,” then she turns to Louis and says, “I trust he’s in good hands.” Louis nods and hugs her. She says something else to Louis that Harry can’t hear but Louis’s grin is so big that it must have been something good.

            “Love,” Louis says, taking his hand.

            “Babe.”

            Zayn goes through the ceremony, but Harry is just staring into the oceans of Louis’s eyes and doesn’t hear most of it.

            “Harry, your vows,” Zayn prompts.

            “Louis, I met you here fourteen years ago, and we became beach best mates. As time went on, I began to rely on my time with you. You were this massive ball of sunshine in my life, and then you became more than that, you became my heart. Those summers without you were miserable, and I am so glad I will never have to experience that again. I love you so much and I promise to be kind, trusting, tolerant, and understanding as long as you will have me,” Harry slides the ring he designed onto Louis’s ring finger, kissing his knuckles.

            “Louis, your vows,” Zayn prompts.

            “Harry, you have been a constant in my life since I was eleven years old. You have helped me through many difficult situations with patience and kindness. Your earnestness has always made me incredibly glad to know you. Every summer, I always felt like a piece of me was missing until I saw you. Those years without seeing you were like having a piece of myself out there walking around without me knowing where. I don’t ever want to do that again either. I love you as consistently as the waves crash. I promise that we will get through all the challenges of life together and I won’t ever want to get rid of you. You’ve got me for life and beyond,” Louis promises as he slides the ring onto Harry’s hand, kissing Harry’s knuckles in return.

            “Are you Louis William Tomlinson free, lawfully, to marry Harry Edward Styles?”

            “I am,” Louis says, his eyes brimming with tears but his mouth brimming with a grin.

            “Are you Harry Edward Styles free, lawfully, to marry Louis William Tomlinson?”

            “I am,” Harry replies, he can feel the tears slipping down his cheeks and he just desperately wants to kiss Louis.

            “You may now kiss,” Zayn gives them permission, and Harry laughs giddily into Louis’s mouth.

            “I love you,” Harry declares, pulling away.

            “I love you too,” Louis responds and pulls Harry back in for a kiss.

            They have a nautical themed reception at a restaurant on the pier that has a wonderful outdoor patio. They have a “private” table; it’s not so private that it’s in the middle of the party, but it is private that it’s just the two of them. Harry can’t stop touching Louis. A hand on his knee while they eat, a kiss each time Louis makes a joke about the ridiculousness of this situation, a hand on the small of Louis’s back while they talk to guests, and a finger that traces along Louis’s jaw every chance it gets.

            There’s a lot going on, and Harry goes through the motions. However, all he can think about is how thrilled he is to be married to the love of his life. He dances with his mum, and they both cry as they sway to “All You Need is Love.” His mum tells him how proud she is of him and everything he’s done. Louis dance with his mum at the same time and all four of them come away a little weepy.

            They dance and laugh with their friends and family all night. It’s the start of something perfect. Before the night is over, they sneak up to the top of the lighthouse and consummate their marriage.

_And in years_

_When the torchlight thins_

_And the clock tower’s gone_

_And the big light dims_

_We’ll no longer be boys_

_We’ll have lines on our skin_

_And they’ll throw our dust to the wind_

 

**2087 93 and 95**

            Hattie sits on the rocks; her toes pushed into the sand. According to her mum, there used to be a lighthouse here that her great granddads got married under. It was only a few weeks ago that her great grandpapa was telling her how they’d met so many years ago as little kids and how he still loved her great granddad so very much. She aspires to that kind of love.

            Her mum and grandmum are still chatting and crying. Her step dad is chasing her baby brother and sister around the beach; they don’t understand what’s happening so she’s not mad that they’re laughing hysterically as they try to escape their dad. She just can’t believe it; she doesn’t know what she’s going to do without them. They helped raise her when her mother was a scared teen mum. After she and her mum moved away, she visited them at least once a week, even when great grandpapa got sick and couldn’t play as much Scrabble with her. He’d passed away a few weeks ago right after their 70th wedding anniversary; her granddad had followed quickly, only ten days later. He’d been in good health; it had shocked the rest of the family, but it hadn’t shocked Hattie because she knew he’d die of a broken heart. He’d hugged her extra long the last time he saw her.

            Mia reaches over and weaves their fingers together; Hattie had almost forgotten she was there. She had always thought that she and Mia had a love like her great grandfathers. They’d gone from best friends to girlfriends easily, and right now Mia was being her rock.

            “It’s okay to be upset,” Mia whispers.

            “I know,” Hattie hisses back. She does; she really does, but she has these mixed emotions because she knows they wouldn’t want her to be sad or cry because they’re back together now.

            Hattie scoots closer to Mia on the rock and rests her head on Mia’s shoulder. Mia kisses her forehead lightly and then rests her cheek against Hattie’s head. Mia wraps her arm around Hattie’s shoulders and runs her fingers along Hattie’s arm.

            “Harriet,” her mother calls a few minutes later. Her mum and grandmum are standing on the edge of the beach each holding an urn.

            “We think they’d like it if you and Mia did the honors,” her grandmum says, her voice soft and hopeful.

            “Yeah, yeah, that would be nice,” Hattie agrees and shouts for Mia who’s drawing designs in the sand with her toe a respectable distance away.

            They countdown together and launch the ashes into the ocean. Mia makes the sign of the cross when she’s done and then she holds out her arms for Hattie who falls into them. A sob garbles into Mia’s collarbone. Mia shushes her softly; a hand pushed tightly into Hattie’s curl and the other hand clenching the back of Hattie’s shirt. Mia releases her into her mum and grandmum’s arms and the three of them cry together. She finally allows herself to miss her great grandfathers desperately.

            That night she reminds Mia that she loves her in as many ways as she can think of.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think. I appreciate any and all feedback!
> 
> For the following prompt:  
> Based on the song Circles by Passenger. A fic about always losing each other, until they don't.
> 
> Almost every summer Harry and Louis' families go to Brighton (or some place else) for the summer, separately. The first time they meet it's in a lighthouse and they are just children. It's a magical day that they spend exploring the beach, collecting seashells, building sand castles.
> 
> After that day, as they grow up, almost every summer they end up meeting on the beach and spending a day together. Sometimes, and those are the worst summers, they miss each other because one of the families couldn't go to the beach, or because they travelled somewhere else.
> 
> It's like they spend the rest of the year anticipating those couple of weeks they get to meet during summer, and they don't even realise when innocent friendship between children becomes teenage love. In one of these summers, they end up camping by themselves and having sex for the first time.
> 
> They go to Uni, move out to other cities than their hometowns, and start going less and less to the beach where they first met. But they never stop loving each other, never stop remembering with fondness all the summer memories they've made.
> 
> I'll leave the finally-getting-together open to the writer, but they could meet in London and be surprised by the fact that they both live there, or they could do a trip together with their families to the vacation spot and meet there and decide they don't want to be apart anymore, I don't know.
> 
> Lots and lots of nautical references, ocean metaphors, beautiful sea side sceneries.
> 
> (I would love you forever if you indulged me with a wedding at the lighthouse)


End file.
